


Untamable

by wolf_noita03



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2015-06-04
Packaged: 2018-03-01 12:21:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2772836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolf_noita03/pseuds/wolf_noita03
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arya is sent on a bounty hunt for the hound who has been summond for a trail leading to the rapes and deaths of little girls.......but is he guilty?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

She glanced at the parchment of paper for less than a second; her heart beating hard in her chest. She knew the name therefore she knew the person.  But instead of saying she knows she said she did not; even before she had time to think about the implications of this if it turned against her. Yet there was a pull. She needed to see him, perhaps give him what she owed him. Grant the mercy he had asked for so many years ago.

She watched as the kindly man stared at her for the briefest of moments before acknowledging everyone to leave except her. Once the room had been emptied he walked over more slowly towards his chair and sat down watching her. She knew what he was waiting for. An explanation. But in truth she had none. So she stood motionless, no emotion crossing her face, and waited for him to speak.

“Why is this one important to you?” he asks with a heavy sigh.

“He is of no importance, I do not know him”, she says without a flicker of an eyelid.

“You lie” he says more firmly but with no trace of malice in his voice.

Her grey eyes bore into him, glazed like thick fog. She had no reply so she remained quiet.

“You know this man, from a different life perhaps? Your old one?” he asks more gently all the while she could feel his eyes looking for the slightest hint of a lie from her body revealing her betrayal. None would come. They both knew that. She had become very good at hiding her emotions from him and everyone else.

“That life does not belong to me. That life was somebody else’s. I am no one. And no one has no life before coming to serve the god of many faces”, she said. She knew she had him as his eyes sparkled ever so slightly.

“Very well, no one, the assignment is yours. You are not required to give this man the gift you are only required to send him to the place called kings landing, where there will be a trial held for his accusations. Do you understand?” he asks, becoming wearier, as the light of the candle began to flicker.

“I thought the gift was mercy, I am no bounty hunter. Is this an insult?” she says reminding herself to keep her voice calm. Had she been tricked?

“Our services are many – do you decline the assignment?” she watched him stare at her. She knew he was waiting for her to react, to get her to admit to the truth that she had lied to him, and the whole of the guild. But she would not be so foolish.

“No, I just... forgive me.... you are right, our talents are many” she says bowing her head slightly then looking back at the face of the man that stood before her.

“Good” he says and she could have sworn she saw a twinkle in his eyes if only for a fleeting second, and then it had disappeared. She knew that he knew he had her. By the gods, even after all these years he still continued to challenge her.

 She watched him slowly resting his head on his hand rubbing it gently. The years had been good to him, but now even old age could not be kept away forever.   _No matter how many masks he had worn, death came to all._ She had not realised when it had crept in, but it had and decided to stay. His hands were more wrinkled, and the frowns upon his forehead had come much too quickly then they should have. She suspected they were worries for her, and she had been right. She had not been the easiest of acolytes to train, but she had been the quickest to learn. Favouring her among the others, had made her a mark, open for teasing and whispers of jealousy among the other acolytes. Even when they had tried to kill her, breaking the rules of the house. Her own abilities outsmarted the rest of them. The kindly man had been furious, when he awoke from his slumber and found the bodies lying there all ready and prepared. He had questioned her for ages but her answer had been the same. They had attacked her first. Which was true. So they deserved to die. He ranted at her for hours, before giving up, and walking out. But she did not care. She never cared about anything. After her list had been done, what more was there to care about?  A couple of days passed and the kindly man soon began to talk to her again. Knowing that his anger with her never lasted long.

 With time a mutual respect had grown between the two. She continued to reside in the house of black and white taking care of the place and the old man who was now seated before her. She had a chance once; a long time ago to go back home. He had offered it to her himself. Which hurt. The feeling that even he did not want her there anymore but she refused. Her home was the house of black and white. Winterfell , the north her remaining family had all moved on without her and she did not begrudge them of this. To be a part of their world, for her to live in their world she would have to start again. Rebuild herself up from broken memories. She would have to start to want to live and that was much more painful for her to do. She was not ready for life to be breathed back into her not yet. She was an instrument of death, a tool to be wielded to do deaths bidding. So she remained hollow from the inside, empty so that death could reside there.

“You must go down and choose a face, unless you wish to use your own little one” he said kindly breaking into her thoughts.

_My own_ she repeated in her head and looked at him confusingly. Was this another trick? So that he could make her admit that she knew the man?

As if reading her mind he answered “it is no trick, you have nought to fear. I just think......” he sighed heavily. She knew what he was thinking, what he was hoping for her. He had been more kind to her then anyone had in a very long time. She knew he saw her as a daughter, and longed for her to be happy and have a life. But this was her life, and she was not going to go anywhere. She would return. Return to him.

“Whether I use another face or my own, I shall come back. This is where I belong. This is my home”, she said quietly as she walked over to him. She carefully poured water into a glass, and took some medicine from the shelves. Two forms of powder mixed in the water, one to help with the pain, and one to let him sleep. He had been up longer then he should have been, for someone his age. The meeting had taken too long.

He smiles at her then replies "death has no home child; it simply goes where it is needed, where its duty lies. You shall never have a home whilst you are serving as death”, his eyes sad as he thought of this.

“Drink this, and go to bed, I will see you when I return”, she says choosing to ignore his comment and watching him drink the contents in the glass.

He smiles at her and says “what if death comes to me before you return child, what then?”He smiles, but already she could see he was beginning to get tired. Gently placing her hand under his arm they walk together back to his chambers. She helps him on to the bed, and places a kiss on his forehead.

“Then you shall simply say not today, promise me” she says smiling down on his face. She had lost far too many. Losing him would mean opening old wounds and she was not ready for that. Not yet.

“I promise, not today is what I shall say. Now go swiftly child and return soon. For I do not know how long I can keep death at bay”, he says his eyes already drooping.

“Valar Dohaeris” he whispers as she leans into him placing a kiss upon his forehead. She watches him smile as his eyelids close. She knew he had said it wrong but he also knew she would understand why.

“Valar Morghulis, but for you not today” she says giving his hand a gentle squeeze, she leaves his room. Closing the door behind her she quietly picks a new candle and lights it, taking it to the place where the many faced god resided. She places it down gently, and whispers “not today, not yet. Keep him safe till I return, that is all I ask”, and she leaves quietly; the candle flickering slightly.

Making her way back to her chambers she quietly gathers her things together, making sure she packed everything. She decided she would wear no face but her own, yet she still needed to pack one just in case. Going down to the base of the building she ponders at which one she would take, and comes across one. It was that of a young girls no older then herself. She remembered the kind man telling her she had died of accidental stabbing. Got caught between two men who were stealing. She had used the face before, so she was rather familiar with it. Taking it down, she takes a sharp knife and gently scrapes pieces of skin away from the face, taking care not to slice to deeply. While the scrap of skin is still balancing on the blade she takes the empty jar and places it inside, and closes the lid. No one puts the face back where it hung, and went back in the main hall. She swept out of the house of black and white and makes her way to the place she kept needle. Placing that under her hilt, she takes one more glance at the house, and began to make her way to where the ships were.

There was already a ship out heading to sea. Taking a little rowing boat, she follows the ship, until she reaches it. She calls out for the captain, who looks angry and disgruntled. Perhaps he was sleeping, but his clothes had barely been put on right and she could see his prominent erection bulging within his trousers.

“I seek passage onto your ship captain?” she says loudly and the captain laughs at her.

“You hear that lads. The little lady seeks passage on our ship. Fuck off, we do not have any room, unless you can pay”, throwing the rope down for her anyway. She climbs up anyway. She was not afraid. Fear had left her side a long time ago. She climbed up on the boat her breath short. Her hair coming loose at the base of her braid. She eyed each man, there must have been at least twenty, and she wondered whether if it were to turn nasty could she take them all. A smile crept upon her face. It would be interesting to find out, but she needed to get to Westeros soon, and killing these men would not help.

“I can pay, though I have no coin” she says more quietly, almost alluringly. She enjoyed this game. Men were such fools; always getting their dicks at the ready for any girl that slightly smiled at them. Nothing had changed and she doubted if it would ever.

 She watched the captain, as his smile grew from ear to ear. Showing a row of yellow teeth. “Well, I am sure we can work something out, beginning with my chambers”, he said in his thick Bravosi accent.

“Shall we captain?” she says and his crew laugh at her boldness, and so does the captain himself. She really needed the ship to get going.

“Eager little bitch aren’t you?  Getting your cunt wet already? I’m the captain on this ship and I will say when we make our way to my chambers, but I think I should grab a taste of you here first, in front of my men, just so I know if you are worth me sticking my cock into”, he says, reaching for her, but she was quicker than him. She sidesteps and he loses his step and stumbles forward, almost falling overboard. Though one of his crew members catches him just in time. _Pity she thought to herself._

 She takes out needle, and takes out a heavy coin from her sachet and throws it at the captain, who catches it; surprisingly well for someone who was drunk.

“I will take your chambers, and we will head for Westeros now captain. Is that ok?” she says still pointing her blade at him, a smile across her face. She saw the fear creep into the captains eyes, as he realised what he held and who she was.

“I.....I.....” he stuttered, now evident that the alcohol was wearing off, the colour form his cheeks fading. “Forgive me, if I had known I would never have spoken so boldly. You may sleep in my cabin” he says the sweat beginning to form on his face, she cocks one of her eyebrows and he instantly says “all to yourself of course, again forgive me, I am an old man and my eyes grow weary”, he speaks almost as if he believed it. The rest of the men fell silent and the look of fear and shame laced their eyes.

_Hmm your eyes seem perfectly fine to me_ she says quietly in her head, but follows him to the cabin, and closes the door as soon as he and his wench leave.

She sits at the desk, not wanting to sleep on the bed that had just momentarily been used to fuck in. The smell of it still clung to the air and she felt both sick and slightly aroused.  She pushed the feeling away, and began to recite the name in her head over and over again.

The crimes he had been charged with seemed unlike him. When she had travelled  on the road with him, he not once laid a finger on her; not sexually anyway, and not without her consent. He hit her, and was rude and swore at her, but he never raped her. _Which she had been thankful for._ But he could have if he had wanted to.  She was well aware of that fact. The nights they had spent together. When she had been too ill to clean herself properly he had done it. Taking her to the nearest clean stream, and cleaning out her wounds, his touch had been gentle. He had made sure nobody touched her. All the while saying she was his ticket out this of shithole. And he doubted her aunt would pay kindly to damaged goods. He had numerous opportunities to rape her yet he had not.

More often than not did her thoughts wonder to the man she had left to die? Had he made it? Should she have left him there to die? It was cruel what she had done, she understood it now, but back then she had only been fourteen, seen things and done things she should never have been made to do. But he was no longer on her list; therefore he was not hers to kill. She had left that to the gods. Although now if had been raping little girls she will not leave the gods to decide his fate or for the bloody trial. She would kill him herself. Forget what the kindly man had said, she could deal with his wrath later.

She rested her head on the desk and closed her eyes. She dreamt of a wolf and a dog rutting together. In fields layered with thick heavy snow. The sounds they made still lingered in her ears as she awoke to the morning light.

No one was served breakfast in her cabin which suited her just fine. She did not want to make small conversation with anyone, nor did she wish to know their names. If she had to kill them, then she would, knowing a name made no difference to her anymore _. She had gone beyond that._

She was practising her water dance when there was a knock on the cabin door.  She did not reply just quickly gathered all her things and left to go to the front of the ship. The sea air was cold, though the sun had broken out of the clouds and was now shining upon Westeros that lay before them; the cold breeze still reminded her that winter was not over yet.

She watched as the ship got closer and closer to the shore. She could hear the city already bustling with life, saw children running here and there playing chase with one another. Anything to keep warm she supposed. It had been a long time since no one had visited any of the seven kingdoms, but nothing much had changed. She steps off the ship choosing to ignore the pathetic rambling of the ship captain, and his crew. Without looking back she carries on forward, making her way past bustling markets trying to sell whatever measly food they had. She remembered the alleyways and passages well. It was like the whole of Westerosi map was imprinted in her brain. She navigated her way in and out from one alley to another till she had almost reached the gate. She took her big shawl and wrapped it over her head and shoulders. Keeping her head down she followed a near by meat cart out of the gates along with some children who trailed behind it. Their laughter echoed in her ears as she left kings landing and made her travels on the road alone.

No one had heard rumours of the hound overseas, but chose to ignore them. She had hoped that death had come to him slow and painful yet it seemed even death no longer wanted him. _He killed a boy named Mycah she remembered. A butcher’s boy._ He deserved to die. God only knows how many others he had hurt before they had met on their travels. She had been on the road for almost two years before he had captured her from the brotherhood without banners. She had been stupid to run off, to think that she could make it on her own. But she had not been alone for long. He had captured her and thought to sell her off, hoping that her brother and mother would reward him. Yet that never happened, nor did they make it to the Eyrie.... how long ago that all seemed.....

She had gotten quite far, before noticing the sun had began to dip. The fall of night would be upon her soon, and she would need something to eat. Hurrying her footsteps she reached a tavern, the lights inside glowed, and music played, with loud raucous laughter. Men and women were coming out of the inn laughing merrily. She pulled back the door, and went in, the laughter and music quietened. Many had turned to face her. Eyeing her clothes, her face. She was a stranger to them, and they had every right to be cautious but she paid no heed. Instead she sat at an empty table, and waited till one of the bar maids came to her.

“What will you be drinking my lady?” she asked eyeing her up and down. No one made her wary, she could see it in her eyes.

“I am no lady but I will have a flask of ale, and something warm to eat”, she spoke quietly with a hint of a bravosi accent.

“Aye, coming up, are you travelling alone?”  the maid asks her.

 Oh gods the maid wanted to talk but she had no use for idle chit chat. So she just replies “yes, now please my drink and food” she said.

The maid left her and within a few minutes her food and ale was brought to her.  She ate quietly and alone, though the music and laughter resumed around her, no one ate as quickly as she could.

She thanked the bar maid for the food, and went to pay her when the maid asked “will you be leaving now?”

No one eyes the bar maid suspiciously, and the maid quickly replies “it’s just it is almost night fall, the roads are not safe to travel, especially if you are alone. There is room here if you have the money to pay. Business is rather slow, so we have plenty of rooms”, no one looks around the room, then at the maid.

“I have no need for a room, though if you have a good horse I am willing to pay”, she says.

“No, there is no horse, only the guests who stay here have horses, the inn itself we do not have any”, she says and no one knew she was speaking a lie.

She goes to leave but stops and turns back to the maid, purposely she speaks clearer and louder addressing the room, but her eyes not leaving the maid that stood in front of her. “I am looking for someone. Perhaps he had come by here. The hound?” she said, and she noticed the music stopping just a beat. It was a subtle change nobody would have noticed it but she had been trained to see and hear what others could not. She felt eyes boring in to her from all around the room. It was strange how even now after all these years the name still managed to bring up fear among these people.

“What business do you have with the hound?” came a gruff voice from behind her. She tilted her head slightly, not needing to look who spoke to her and simply replied “my business is my own, but as you are all aware there is a bounty for his head, and I mean to collect it”, she smiles, as the laughter fills the room.

“You’re going to bring the hound in? Has no one told you how fucking big he is?! Stands at almost seven feet tall, and ugly as fuck yet you’re gonna bring him in?” came another’s voice. This time she turned to the man in question, placing her steely grey eyes upon his face. She watched as his laughter subsided, and for a second she saw the fear in his eyes. Did he see death staring back at him she wondered, as a smile crept upon her face.

“Looks can be very deceiving friend, I may be small, but I have brought men twice the size of myself down to their knees. So please I ask again has anyone seen or heard of the hound?” her eyes took in every person in the room and came to rest upon the maid once again.

“No my lady. Though many have come to find him but none return alive”, she says her voice barely a whisper. “You will be another who shall not return alive. They say he is a ghost that walks among the living, taking little girls from the villages in the dead of the night, while the parents lay sound asleep. Leaving their naked bodies on the roadside for all to see. Raped and burned...... such little girls.... of nine and ten, they would not have even had their moon blood. Innocence stolen from them, by a monstrous beast. At first when the killings started the king sent many to find him and bring him to justice but it has been over a year now, fewer men are sent, yet still the hound eludes all.... you really think you can find him? Bring him to justice?” the maid asks, and no one sees the frightened look upon the maids face. She read between the lines.

“Yes. I must go now. Farewell” and she steps out of the tavern. The cold air chills the air around her, as darkness finally began to claim the light once again. She had only taken a few steps, when she heard the voice of the maid calling her back. No one stops and waits for the maid to reach her. “I.......... please stay, you will not survive the night, and there are other things that lurk in the shadows. Giant wolf packs run wild fearing no man or woman. If you really mean to find the hound and for some reason I believe you will bring him the justice he deserves, then please wait till the light of the morning sun” she says her eyes pleading with no one.

“I need a horse, perhaps the one that is kept in your stables,” she only says.

The maid sighs and shuts her eyes. No one looks upon her face, and sees that this young woman before her was probably not that much older than herself. Yet she had a family once, a daughter perhaps that had been stolen from her. She clenched her hands into tight fists. The hound will pay she thought.

“A horse will not out run the wolf pack that roams here. They say a great she wolf leads them, almost as big as a large donkey. Your horse can not outrun her or the wolf pack please. You will die”, she says clutching onto her rm. It was a gesture that she was not accustomed to so she gently pulls away not wanting to hurt this woman’s feelings. She had seen much loss just as her own grey eyes had once. Peace may have come to Westeros yet the injustice suffered by the small folk still remained.

“I do not run from the wolf pack, you need not worry about me. I must go, please the horse, I have money”, she says, and again the maid sighs.

“The horse has not been trained for a rider, he refuses to be broken,  and he will not let you ride him. He bites and kicks, and my good husband thinks to shoot him, but I do not have the heart to do so” she says.  No one watches her not saying anything.

Relunctantly the maid nods her head and turns back to the stables, she follows the maid quietly to the stables, and sees a great big black courser, almost as large as a destrier, yet he was young and wild, she could see in his eyes the fire he held, he was as wild and as untameable as she. He would do perfectly.

“If you can break him then he is yours, for free”, the maid says.

No one continues walking forward her eyes kept on the horse before her. He reminded her of another horse from a long time ago, and she felt an odd pang in her heart. Walking slowly she reaches to touch the side of the horse faces. The horse does not flinch.  Her eyes mist over as she takes the mind of the horse before her. “I have not come to break you my friend, only to free you, please”, the horse lets her in and she comes back to the stables. Nothing had changed, only seconds had passed. She stares back at the horse and the horse nods his head to her, as she places her own head to his face. She heard the gasp come from the maid behind her as she mounts the horse.

“How did you.....?” but no one just smiles and says “farewell”, and rides out with the great big courser out of the stables.

He was fast; faster then any other horse she had been on. He had a fire in him that she had not felt since her own wolf. She missed Nymeria and wondered whether their roads would meet again. Did Nymeria know she was back? Could she smell her? As the courser ran swiftly down the road no one could see the pale moon shine in the sky, shining behind the trees that were either side of them.

She had been riding for probably a little over an hour, when she heard the first howl. It had come from behind her, yet the horse like herself seemed unperturbed by the howl. Her horse carried on swiftly not breaking in his speed. A few seconds later another howl came, met by another and another, and it seemed like the whole forest was awakening. Yet she carried on. From the corner of her eye she could see grey shadows running in-between the trees, not yet reaching the road. It amused her that they were hunting her. The horse carried on, she knew he could sense them running not that far behind from him, but he was not afraid. _Good!_

They continued on the road, hearing a long and sad howl that sent a chill down her spine. She knew the howl; familiar and as deadly as the wolf it came from. Yet they carried on, one by one she could see they grey shadows falling back. Nymeria had called them back. Her heart sank a little as she realised that perhaps Nymeria was still not happy with her, leaving her again. But she could not have taken her to Bravos with her. She tried to make her stay up north with the rest of the family, but it was like Bran had said. She was lost without her, and would continue to roam near the trident, for it was where she had left her, and where she would wait for her Arya to return. Except Arya had no place in Westeros.

The thought of Nymeria wondering aimlessly waiting for her return filled her with more sadness then leaving her family behind. For her and Arya were one of the same; incomplete without the other.

They stopped near a river, as Arya collected wood the courser grazed. She had no rope to tie him, he was free to go if he wished, yet he stayed alongside her. Every so often near the fire, she could hear Nymeria and her wolves howl, and it almost broke her heart. She wanted nothing more than to reunite with her lost self, but now was not the time. She had a job to do.

 The cold air snapped at her cloak as she clung to it with all her might. It had gotten a lot colder since before she started, and she almost cursed herself for not staying at the inn like the maid had asked her. Yet she was stubborn, and if there had been more before her then she needed to move quickly.

 No one was a light sleeper, always had been form the time of her escape from kings landing. People could die in their sleep, and she refused to let death snub her out like that. If she were to die then she would rather with her beloved needle by her side. She heard the soft thuds of paws coming her way, as she shivered quietly in her blanket, yet she made no attempt to move or open her eyes. She continued to let her dreams take hold of her once again.....

_**In the distance she could hear the horse still grazing, she saw his head come up and look at her. Taking the size of her, many would have bolted but not him. He was strong and brave just like her little girl that slept under the coldness of the blanket that was wrapped around her fiercely. She had known she was returning, could smell her scent being carried by the salty winds, and now here she lay. The giant she wolf padded towards her, sniffing her body, letting the familiar sent of her course through her nostrils and into her own being. She gently loped down by her side. Resting her huge head on her little humans’ body, and provided her shelter from the cold winds that had started to rise again.  Her frame was still small, but she had filled into the skin, making her a woman that many had tried to tame, but failed. She was free and wild just like her. The blood that ran through her veins was the same as her humans; strong and fierce. She was proud of this little wolf girl who had grown to be feared by many. Her own heart swelled with pride; finally she had found her again. She whimpered quietly and closed her eyes to sleep. Sensing her own pack of small grey cousins watching from a far. None dared to harm this young woman that lay with her; for they were two halves of the same, to harm her human, was to invite death upon themselves..............**_

The morning light streamed through the holes in her blanket and no one slowly took her blankets off, opening her eyes reluctantly to the light. It stung her eyes, but she got up anyway. She turned to her side to see it was empty. _Nymeria......._ she called in her mind but no reply came. She had been here, she knew. She could smell her. She had stayed and watched for her. No one’s heart sank. Nymeria still refused her gaze upon her. Yet she had come and lay with her. That was promising.

She got up quickly and was still surprised to see the horse still there. He cocked his head to her and nodded.

“It appears I am going to have to give you a name friend” she says though she did not want to name him. If she named him then he too would be a part of her, but when her job was done then what? He neighed at her breaking her from her thoughts.

“You know you remind me of another horse I knew a very long time ago. He was just as fierce and brave as you are; yet we are both strangers to one another,” she whispers into his face holding him close. She smiles at him and says “very well I shall name you stranger”, as she looks at him he nods his head several times; his approval evident.

“well come on stranger let us continue our journey, I hear the quiet isle is a good place like any”, she mounts and holds on to his mane,  as he begins to gallop and make his way to the quiet isle......


	2. Chapter 2

 

**The grave digger**

He did not know what had stirred his sleep but something had. Perhaps it was the cold chill that was coming from the hole in the window. As much he had tried to board it up, the cold still managed to find a way in. The room was dark, and the only sounds that he could hear were the ones coming from him as he breathed; his chest heaving up and down as he laid on his back.

He turned over to his right side, wincing as he did. The pain was an old pain which shot from his upper thigh, and nestled in-between the bottom half of his torso. Though with the passing of years it had healed quite a great deal it still hurt from time to time, playing up on him again reminding him of a past that he would sooner have forgotten. Yet unlike everything that had happened in his life the past was getting harder to forget, as the years rolled on by.

 Shutting his eyes once again he silently hoped that sleep would claim him soon, if death would not come sooner. How he had prayed for death, pleaded with her to come back and finish the job. To not leave him the way she had, but even death shunned him.

  _Typical!_

 All his life he had been shunned. Shunned by all the pretty faces, the kings, the queens, the princesses, the lords and lady’s. His face alone struck fear in all, but now….. now he was just some fucking grave digger. Digging everybody else’s grave bar his own. Each grave he dug he longed for it to be his own.

 He inhaled deeply then exhaled opening his eyes to watch his breath turning into a white mist.  He focused on the mist as he breathed in and out. She still, to this day haunted him. Her indifference towards him had left him praying to the gods. She left him there without a second glance; he had trained her well but not that well. _Cold hearted wolf bitch_ he thought to himself. He should have left her at the twins! He had begged her, pleaded with her to kill him, yet she just walked away. He had shown her his true weakness and even then she had turned the other way. As if he was nothing more than just some scum at the bottom of her shoe, wiping it clean and leaving him there. His shouts  fell upon deaf ears.

She had left him there to die. To rot, and be eaten alive by wolves, and scavengers alike. After all he had done for her! Though he smirked to himself, it wasn’t much but he had kept her safe, and fed her though he daint need to. Admitted once or twice he may have slapped her or threatened her but the bitch had deserved it. He had killed people for far less, then the annoying shit that came from her mouth that he had to put up with. If she had not been so valuable he would have left her there to rot. But then the image of the little trapped bird came to his head. She would know. She would see the truth in his eyes, and her hate towards him was something he would not be able to bare.

He shuddered and closed his eyes, trying to pull the cloak even closer to his skin. He tried to think of her – the little bird – who had finally managed to escape and find her own way home; back to the north. He had wanted nothing more than to follow her, to pledge is sword in her service. He chuckled quietly to himself at the thought. He could hardly stand some days how the hell would he have protected her. He tried to imagine seeing her again, what it would be like. Would she look at him with happiness that her old dog had finally found his way back to her, or would she look at him with fear and pity, just as she had done in kings landing.

The old grave digger tried to picture her; red auburn hair shining brightly in the sunlight, her skin porcelain without a blemish or a bruise. Her blue eyes pleading with the king to spare her father…. She had been so innocent. An image of the maiden come to life.  

He felt his cock harden as he pulled it out and began tugging at it. Yet his mind began to alter the image in his head. Instead of red auburn hair it began to get darker and darker until it had completely changed to a mousey brown, which had been ruthlessly cropped short. Her skin was pale and faint bruises showed upon her face. Her grey eyes pierced at him. No through him. Looking into his soul. Judging him if he was worthy or not.  It was a cold hard stare, indifferent.  He knew at once who she was as his eyes shot open, and he put his hand upon his forehead. She was death. Death personified as the bloody wolf bitch Arya Stark.

He looked up at the ceiling of his chambers. “That stupid bitch” he muttered as he rubbed his hands up and down over his face. His beard itched liked mad, and the cold stung his scarred face. He got up as slowly as he could, trying to ignore the pain that was shooting up and down from his leg. Leaning against the cold hard wall, he lifted his legs over the bed, letting his feet rest on the cold stone floor. This was his life now; if you could call it that. He had sworn to the seven that he would start a new, that he would leave his troubled past behind and begrudge no one, but she still haunted him. She would not let him rest. Even when he wanted nothing more than to just jerk off about her older sister it was her fucking face that came to his mind.  His dick was still hard though. Shaking his head he tried again to imagine the little birds face.

_He imagined her wearing a dress made of the finest lace and silk. The silk draping itself over her lean body like a second skin, showing off her curves.  He imagined her frightened face as she was being carried away by the angry mob of kings landing. He had come to rescue her, killed the bastards who had torn her dress, but instead of taking her back to safety, he had pushed her against the pillar holding and grabbing her hair and kissing her. She had fought him, her nails digging hard into his face but one hard slap across the face made her stop; a face which was not her own._

_He tore at her dress and made her pull his cock out threatening her with the blade he had just pulled out. He pushed her down to her knees, and placed her face near his cock. “Open your mouth bitch” he spoke gruffly with her. The little wolf bitch deserved no kind words nor will she get any from him. And he could see the look of defiance in her grey eyes. He knew by looking at her she was thinking of the ways she was going to kill him but that only aroused him further._

He opened his unable to believe she had entered his thoughts again.  He looked down at his hands holding his dick which had begun to get harder at the image of her sitting there on her knees.

“Ahh fuck it, who cares?” he asked no-one and closed his eyes again. Thinking back to the part where he had the wolf bitch down on her knees. A smile touched at the corners of his mouth.

_He gave her hair another pull making her head go back and her mouth open; she did not squeal or shout for help._

_“Do it. Suck my dick….. or I’ll get every soldier in kings landing to fuck your sister, and I’ll make you watch”, he says moving his face closer to hers, as his breathe swept over her face._

_“You wouldn’t dare” she spat back at him. It was not a question just a statement. Her eyes held that steely gaze of defiance he had seen so many times before. He could see from the way her eyes had widened that she thought of him capable of such deeds._

_So for reassurances he added “do you really want to find out girl?” he whispered in a low rasp. It made no matter to him what the bitch thought. She was going to suck his cock one way or another._

_He stood back a smile edging on the corners of his mouth, as she sat herself up on her knees, and grabbed his cock. Slim, shaky fingers. She looked up once more at him her grey eyes cursing, but all he said “close your eyes bitch, I don’t need to see you looking up at me” and she did quietly, for once without arguing._

_He felt her warm mouth around his cock, her small fingers trying to wrap themselves around the girth of his thick hard cock. She moved her mouth up and down with inexperienced movement, and after a few minutes he decided he was going to help her._

_“Here” he said grabbing the back of her hair and pushing her head back and forth onto his cock, whilst he moved back and forth to accommodate his cock and her mouth into a rhythm. He could sense by the way she squirmed that the pace was much too fast but he did not care for he was about to come. One last big thrust and he could feel himself pouring his seed into her mouth. She tried to squirm and free herself from his grip, but he held her in place. He looked down upon her grinning as she she looked up at him big grey eyes wide with hatred, and shock as to what was actually pouring inside her mouth._

_He let go of her and pushed her to the floor. “That’s a good little bitch”, he said to her as she wretched on the floor for a good few minutes._

_“Next time you’re going to swallow, and if you tell anyone of this I’ll be sure to pay your sweet sister a visit and do the same, and hells girl don’t think I won’t” he said tucking himself in and picking his sword._

_“You’re the worst shit ever”, she managed to shout back at him, but this only made him laugh, as she touched her mouth, and wriggled her jaw._

_“Aye that I am” and he pulled her back up, and dragged her back to the rest of the Lannisters. A smile upon his face._

That was the moment he came, the warm white liquid poured onto his hand, as he gave his dick the last few jerks.

“Ahhh stupid wolf bitch”, he muttered as he opened his eyes, and walked towards the basin at the end of his chambers. Now he would have to clean himself up, and change his trousers, though most of it, thankfully he had managed to catch in his hand; he wanted to avoid the conversation with the brothers of what he had been up to. He made his way slowly to the basin the cold air making his cock shrivel. He quickly tucked it in, to keep it warm. “No good to me if that fucking falls off”, he thought bitterly.

As he started to clean himself up, he began to wonder when exactly it was when his fantasy’s had not been about the little bird but the stupid wolf bitch.  Gods knew he hated her, and if he ever met her again he would love nothing more than to shove a sword right up her ass, that would teach the little bitch. It was not the first time he had thought of her, whilst he jerked of; though it was not something he did voluntarily either.

A smile crept up his face as he thought about what she would have done really if he had done that to her on their travels. _Stupid bitch probably would have bitten it off!_ He smirked slightly to himself.

The thought of him almost considering taking her with him to Esso’s, made him scrub his hands ferociously in the basin. He had become soft for the girl; seven hells even began worrying about her as they travelled. The thing at the twins, no one that young should have bore witness to her brother’s body mutilated like that. Hells she had even spent time with his brother the _cunt_ ; god only knows what she had bore witness to there.

He sighed heavily, as he grabbed the towel and dried his hands. Moving over to where there was a clean pair of trousers hanging, he pulled his own down and quickly put the clean ones on. The icy cold air bit at his legs; though spring was near the winter refused to let go its icy grip upon the lands.

He walked over to the basin once more and looked out the window of his chambers.  The sky was still black though there was a few stars out still, it would not be long till morning arrived, and his day would begin again.

A sound at the corner of his room made him tighten his grip on the basin. He kept his gaze looking out the window, though his eyes watched for any reflection behind him, as his ears listened to every sound, outside and in.

A chair creaked inside his room, and he knew that he was not alone. Although for how long he had not been alone for was another question.   The shuffling came again. Either they were really fat and stupid, or they did not mind him knowing that they were there. The latter scared him a little, though he did not care to admit it out loud. If they were fat and stupid he may have a chance, but if they wanted him to know, then they were very sure of their own skills. The last few men that had come looking for him, the brothers of the isle had seen to them. He never asked questions or wondered what happened to them, he just dug graves.

“Ah fuck” he muttered as he pretended to fidget with the window, whilst his hand slowly grabbed the small knife that had been left their after he had eaten his fruit the morning before. True before his injuries he was more than a capable fighter but now……now he wasn’t even sure if he could wield a sword anymore to defend himself let alone kill a man. _It had been too long._

“That’s quite a feat to get passed the brothers and make it into my chambers without them realising?” he asked not turning around. Not wanting to know what or whom he found there.

Silence passed and he could see his breath forming a mist on the window.

“I know you’re there, how long you have been sitting there I couldn’t give a fuck. Who sent you? The queen?” he asks smirking at his own reflection that mirrored his movements back to him.

Still no reply. He listened and waited for the silence to shift, for a sound to come. But nothing. It made him uneasy. The longer he stood there, the more helpless he felt.  It was in this time that he had realised that his legs had begun to shake beneath him, as the room began to slowly spin. He shook his head to stop the spinning and again concentrated on where the sound had come from.

Shuffling then quiet. More shuffling then quiet again. It had become a pattern of muffled sounds. And then after a few minutes more silence. Closing his eyes once more he waited and counted in his head for the sound to come. Only this time no sound came. The banging in his head hurt. He opened his eyes, trying to concentrate on his own reflection. Had he imagined it? No he was certain there was some one there; they were just toying with him. Like cat and mouse. Only he was the mouse.

He could feel his eyes drooping as his fingers loosened their grip on the knife. He shook his head, viciously form side to side, determined to stay awake, but his legs gave way beneath him and he crumpled to the cold floor in a heap on his side _.  What is happening to me?_ He thought.

He fought with himself to keep his eyes open, but he could not. He heard the sound of footsteps quietly walking towards him. He opened his eyes once more to look at the stranger.  His eyes darted to the persons face as they knelt beside him. Big cold grey eyes stared back at him. There was no tenderness in those eyes, as they glared at him. They held nothing for him.

“You stupid wolf bitch!” he spat out, but it came out weak, as his eyes began to close. The last thing he saw was a smile creep up on the face he recognised as Arya Stark……..


	3. Chapter 3

**Arya**

 

Dragging his dead weight of a body was no easy feat, but she had managed it. She had more than a  few good hours before the brothers awoke to realise what had happened.  She glanced over at Sandor wondering whether he had always been this fat? She knew he was big, much bigger than most men, but she did not recall him ever being this big. Perhaps living here and getting three meals a day agreed with him.

He had gotten so pale and thin as there days travelling together drew to a close. She knew it would not have been long for him. He would drop dead just like they all did. The fever had taken hold, though he had held it off better than most. She figured it had something to do with him being so big. That perhaps bigger men were more difficult to take down. Though she was much younger then, and her naivety for such things was evident in her actions; or in his case, a lack of actions. Hence why she had made sure she had doubled his dose. The average sized man in Bravos would only need one drop of poison smeared, but Sandor Clegane was not an average man. Thankfully for her she had come prepared.

She smirked to herself as she looked down at his limp body. What a dumb shit he was. He had not even noticed her being there. She had crept quietly into his chambers whilst he still slept peacefully. She had watched him for a while to see if it was truly him and there he was. After all these years the big shit had made it. Some people had all the luck. Though why was he different? Why had he been spared yet not her father, mother or brother? Why had the god of death refused him passage but welcomed those she had loved so dearly without hesitation?

_Whilst he had slept Arya brought her hand gently near his face while the other drew out her dagger. She gently traced her fingers along the burnt side of his face.  His skin felt strange; the charred skin felt unfamiliar to her smooth hand. It was rough and had great big craters in, whilst part of the skin folded together to make it look like water running down a stream full of rocks in its path._

_Arya traced her hand over his whole face now, slowly, whilst she closed her eyes. She did not know why, but she wanted to feel him, to sort of believe he was really there. She knew there was nothing sexual about it but she wanted to feel him. This person from her past that she had long buried was now here, completely unaware of how his life was truly in her hands. He felt like an unfamiliar landscape, and a chill slowly trickled down the back of her spine._

_Caressing the pummel of the dagger Arya opened her eyes, and really looked upon his face. She could do it now. It would be swift and he would not even know. A quick death. But he did not deserve that.  She pulled her hand back and straightened herself up, sliding her dagger; back in to the strap of her boot._

_Walking away from his unconscious body, again her thoughts ran back to the same questions she had been asking over and over again to herself. Why had he been spared? Her father, mother, brother had not been. So why him? How could the gods be so cruel? She could feel her eyes filling up, and quickly closed her eyes shaking her head.  Now was not the time to think of the past.  When she opened her eyes again she saw him stir and scrunch his face. She quickly and quietly walked back to the chair that was nearest to the door, cloaked in shadow she had waited for him to awaken._

Dragging his body out of the sanctuary had been difficult, but now that they were in the open she could see the outline of a great big horse waiting for her return. Leaving his body lying on the grass she quickly makes her way back to the horse, taking the rope that was tied around his neck, back to the body that lay on the ground. She had of course had all the time of the night, for the brothers would not awake until lunch. Which for her was good; it gave them enough time to be on their way, before anyone had noticed.

 She tied the rope several times around the hounds ankle, making sure it was tightly fitted, and leaving no room for him to wriggle out of, then she tied another end around his wrists, until finally tying it in a knot. She whistled low, and the horse came trotting up to her, and knelt down on the floor. She managed to place his hand on the horse’s body, then holding the rope around his wrists; she pulled hard to drag his body across the horses back. The horse as if in protest neighed at her, turning its head to the side to look at her.

“I know boy, and I am sorry but it’s the only way”, Arya said letting out a sigh. The horse carried on looking ahead without any more protest as she checked to make sure the hound was on securely. The last thing she needed was him falling off, and escaping. Then she patted the horse gently on the rump, and the horse got up, and they walked quietly away from the quiet isles. It was a slow journey, for the tide was out and there were lots of mudflats which in the dark made it hard to see where to put your foot down. But luckily Stranger knew which way to move, so that she avoided most of the squelchiest parts.

Morning would be upon them soon, and the further she could get away from the isle the better it would be for her and the hound. She had given him enough sleeping potion to keep him asleep till the late afternoon. But now seeing him and how long it had taken the potion to work she was not sure if he would last until the afternoon. If she had to guess he would probably start waking up the same time as the brothers. Which for her was not good. Though so long as they were off the island they would be fine.  She had paid a man well in advanced for the tiny vessel that would carry her, Sandor and the horse back to somewhere near the Trident. She had already chosen the spot to be dropped off. From there, on the map there she had a choice of several directions she could take Sandor, and the brothers or anyone else, who may be come after them would be none the wiser.

After a while of nothing but the sound of the river, Arya spotted the vessel, waiting for her. She slowly crept onto the boat, spying the Captain who had fallen asleep. She shook him furiously, but covering his mouth so he was unable to shout out. The Captain recognising it was her, helped her get Stranger and the man aboard the vessel. He knew not to ask questions , though the man looked nervous. Slowly the vessel moved away from the shores and down the embankment. The water was calm, and so was the night, it would not be long till they reach land again.

The vessles’ Captain never spoke to her or asked her anything of the man slumped on the floor looking as if he may be close to death. The journey was short and it was quiet. She got off the vessel with the Captain helping her with Sandor. Then Arya tossed him a sachet full of a few dragons.

“Breathe a word of this to anyone, and I shall find you, though what I do of you _, no one_ will ever know” she spoke gently as if soothing a baby.

The man nodded several times, and thanked her for the money, and swore he would not utter a word. She left him boarding his vessel and rowing upstream. Though as she watched him sail away she took note of the fact that he was not heading back the way they had come. Clever man she thought to herself, and decided to walk further up with Stranger. She looked back at the horse, and for a moment felt sorry for him carrying such a heavy lump.

 Once she was sure they had made enough head way she mounted the horse too, and they rode off as fast as they could go. Sandor Clegane had truly become a fat lump! Though he did not smell as bad as she had remembered; for which she was secretly grateful for. The journey ahead was a long one, where she had to take him, and the last thing she wanted was his bad smell filling her nostrils.

When Arya was sure they were both well away and hidden in forestry she dismounted her horse. Stranger knelt down so that Arya could pull the hound off him. The horse got up quickly retreating to a nearby clearing not far from her view and began to graze fresh grass. Arya took this opportunity to first make sure the hounds bonds were still tied and he was breathing, and then began to collect wood for the fire. Though it would soon be morning it was still cold. She managed to find enough wood and broken branches without having to venture far from where she had left the hound.

Whilst making the fire, Arya could sense eyes watching her and it made her feel that much safer to know that though Nymeria had yet to show herself to her, she was still close by should Arya run into trouble! If the brothers of the quiet isle came looking for her they will think twice attacking whilst Nymeria and her pack were there.  Stranger of course for his part paid Nymeria no heed. Something which made Arya feel unsettled. Any normal horse would bolt but not this one. Perhaps this one had been sent from the old gods too; from _her fathers’_ gods.

Thinking of her father made her heart heavy, and a lump caught in her throat but she shook it off. Arya rummaged her bag for food. Though she was not hungry it was a good distraction. Arya had managed to take some bread, cheese, fruit and vegetables from the monastery, leaving a couple of dragons in there place. Tossing an apple to Stranger she sat and ate her bit of bread quietly. Morning would be upon them soon and she needed to rest; for the journey ahead was going to be long and rough. The thickets of the trees provided some shade from the light but not as much as she would have liked _. Still it was better than nothing she amused to herself._

Pulling out the dagger again from the strap of her ankle she stood up and moved towards the hounds’ body; her fingers tightening on the handle of the dagger. She tugged at his ropes once again to ensure that they were still on tightly. The last thing she needed was him running off or worse trying to kill her whilst she slept. Then she put her fingers delicately on the dip of his neck to check for his pulse. Whilst his pulse beat steadily against her fingers, Arya’s eyes rested upon his face. He looked peaceful sleeping, not at all how he had when she had stood over him in his chambers. For a moment she expected him to open his one eye and tell her to do it. She stumbled back for a second, her own heart racing but as to why; she was unsure.

 She quickly composed herself and went back to lie on her make shift bed on the floor. She should kill him and be done with it. He would never know. She could slit his throat from ear to his missing ear, and he would never know. It was so tempting. But her hand remained still. He truly did not deserve a trial, yet he did not deserve a clean death either. Arya had left him to die once before and he had made it. Perhaps she should leave it to the gods to decide his fate once again.

She slid the dagger back into her ankle strap. She turned so she faced him and sat back up; in a few hours he would be up too. The onslaught of verbal abuse that she was going to have to face when he awoke was enough for her to just leave him there and let Nymeria eat him.

She rummaged in her bag until her hands felt something soft and round. Taking it out she quickly took her shirt and under garments off. Her breasts were heavy and full, and her nipples hardened quickly to the chill of the early morning. She worked quickly to tape her breasts down, her fingers getting cold! Putting back her clothes on and throwing the rest of the cotton cloth back into the bag she lay back down and faced the hound! Already she was beginning to feel uncomfortable. This was going to be a very difficult journey she thought to herself once again, as her eyes finally began to droop!

_Her wolf dreams had not come to her, though more disturbingly she dreamt again of a hound of huge proportions taking her. In her dream she laid bare on her back, knees up, legs opened invitingly as the great lurking hulk of a body hovered over her. She closed her eyes as she felt the beast climb on top of her and thrust deep into her already wet vagina making her gasp and bite down on her lip. The beast was grunting with each thrust and she wrapped her legs around his waist matching his thrusts._

_Though when she looked upon the face there was no beast but a man. A man who had the face of a familiar. A man whose name she was moaning out loud, over and over as she matched his thrusts and wrapped her legs tighter around his waist, trying to slow his thrusting down a little. Her arms wrapped around his neck, as if trying to bury him into her. His teeth raked on her bare neck, and the sensation only made her vagina even more wetter. Her arms began to lack around his neck and he grinned, and then kissed her on the lips; his lips smothering her own, his tongue thrashing inside her mouth. She opened her mouth wider, his beard grazing her chin and lips at the same time, but she did not care. She grabbed his hair, with both her hands, bringing his mouth deeper into her own. She wanted him, needed him, as he continuously pounded inside her. He bit hard on her bottom lip. He let go once he knew he had drawn blood. She could taste it oozing into her own mouth and she wanted to push him off her. But the man was too heavy. She pounded her fists hard on his chest, trying to get him off her, but he grabbed both her wrists, and held her down, and grinned at her as he stilled his movements._

_They both were panting hard, and Arya should have tried to get him off her, but she did not want to. Instead she was more aroused then she had been earlier. Their eyes locking he begins to pull his cock out slowly, as she lets out a whimper, her eyes pleading with him to stay inside her. He grinned once more, and thrusted back hard into her; moving her whole body with the thrust. She gasped out loud, and then bit down on her lips, as he began to thrust hard and slow. His grey eyes locked with hers, and after a few more thrusts she found herself becoming undone as wave after wave of pleasure swept through her._

_Her body became limp but he began to quicken his pace, lifting one of her legs up onto his shoulder making his cock reach deeper into her vagina. She felt another wave of pleasure, as she felt his seed spill inside her, and he drew out quickly mumbling “fuck”._

Arya opened her eyes jolting herself up as she took in her surroundings. The loud snoring coming from her left side was that of Sandors’. She looked towards where the horse was still grazing and tried to still her breathing. She was surprised to find herself wet between her legs. Clearly it had been too long, for she was dreaming about the hound!

She tried to make her self-wretch but found she could not and was thoroughly disappointed. Reluctantly getting up from her bed she walked towards him and checked again on his ropes then his breathing. Content she had not over dosed him too much she let her hand move towards his beard, caressing it gently, feeling the rough beard bristle against her palm, unashamedly her body began to respond to the feel of his roughness! She moved her hand gently to where he was scarred and burned. Absentmindly letting her fingers trace each crevice, each burnt piece of flesh that had been left grotesquely to join together to cover the bone on his face. Time had not healed it very well though it had healed a little. But nothing that would go noticed. An image of his scarred cheek grazing her naked breast came to her mind as she felt him lean into her hand in that exact moment. Surprisingly she jolted and quickly moved her hand away, but not before she could feel the wetness between her thighs growing. Surely it had not been that long since she laid with a man that even the hound was beginning to look good to her. _What the seven hells was happening to her?_ She shook her head and moved away from him.

Needing to clear her thoughts she took out an empty flask and went to the nearest stream up ahead to bring fresh water. He would need it once he awoke, though if it had been up to her she would have gladly killed him. Should have killed him all those years ago. Perhaps then all those little girls could have been spared. She walked towards the stream now and pushed the flask under the water letting the cold water dampen the fire that was beginning to boil in her blood. She had been right he was the worst shit ever. Quickly she washed her face, neck and arms, and then she made her way back to the makeshift camp!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thankyou soo much to everyone who takes the time to read this, who leaves kudos and comments. i do enjoy geting feedback from people, as it encourages me to write more. i am sorry that this has taken so long, but i do struggle for time to write. hope you have enjoyed reading this chapter though. x

**Author's Note:**

> hello! this is my plunge at looking at Sandor and Arya's relantionship, please feel free to leave kudos comments, and postive critisism welcome! hope you all enjoy! :)


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